Something Far Beyond Myself
by Chrmdpoet
Summary: Her hands clench in and out of fists at her sides, her palms beginning to bead with sweat, as the shock and tension of the moment leak rapidly out of her body and leave nothing behind but the frigid and frightening reality that Tamsin is gone, gone, gone. "What did I just do?"
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story takes place post-5x07, immediately following Tamsin's exit, so spoiler alert for anyone who doesn't want to be spoiled. I hope you all enjoy! XO-Chrmdpoet**

Something Far Beyond Myself

Chapter One

The door slams with a resounding echo that feels like a physical punch to Bo's gut. She feels it like a grating against her flesh. She feels it like a wave of fire, melting her into the ground, and suddenly her throat feels too tight. Her skin feels too hot, prickling like needle points teasing her toward unconsciousness. The layers piled atop her heart feel too heavy, too much, for her to breathe and beat, and she closes her eyes against the pressure and the sudden lurching of her stomach.

The silence floods forth when the echo dies, and Bo feels it pressing at her ears, pressing at her eyelids, pressing. She sucks in a sharp breath through her nose and tries to center herself, but she feels her pulse throbbing so heavily in her neck and in her temples that she briefly worries she might faint. Her mouth goes dry like someone poured the desert between her lips and forced her to chomp down the grit.

Tamsin's quaking voice rips through her mind like the clapping thunder rending the sky, and Bo feels the burn of bile as it bubbles in her gut and soars up her throat. It sizzles bitterly at the back of her mouth.

_What's wrong with me?_

_Why not me?_

_What's wrong with me?!_

Bo's eyes sting and she blinks rapidly in her attempt to alleviate the pain, to hold back the moisture, but she fails. Her jaw feels like she fed on earthquakes, trembling, trembling, and she sways on her feet. Her hands clench in and out of fists at her sides, her palms beginning to bead with sweat, as the shock and tension of the moment leak rapidly out of her body and leave nothing behind but the frigid and frightening reality that Tamsin is gone, gone, _gone_.

"What did I just do?" she whispers, the words forcing through her lips in a rushing rasp like the thought alone knocked the wind out of her. The first tears spill over when her heart lurches forward in her chest, beckoning her to move.

And she does.

She stumbles over her feet, swiping almost angrily at her eyes as she rushes from the Clubhouse, heart pounding and blood hot. Her own words run like a looping reel in her mind. _What did I do? What did I do? What did I do?_

The wind whips against her skin, throwing her hair around her face and in her eyes. The sky hangs over her, dark and sparking, and the air feels strangely hot on her flesh. She glances in every direction, spinning on stumbled steps, looking for a flash of blonde, a flutter of wing.

Empty streets, and trash blowing in the whipping wind, and dust flying.

Nothing.

Bo's heart seizes in her chest, its erratic movement freezing. The pressure builds so rapidly beneath her ribs that she has to take hard, gasping breaths. She presses a hand to her chest, pressing like she is trying to push through her flesh and bones.

_What did I do? What did I do? What did I do?_

"Tamsin!" she calls out, the name pushing through her lips like gravel and regret, and fresh tears rip up from her soul and spill over. "Tamsin!"

Her pulse pounds in her ears as she pulls her phone from her pocket and fumbles the device while trying to dial. She dials Tamsin's number, and her thumb hovers over the call button for what feels like years before she erases the number and dials Dyson instead. The lump in her throat refuses to go down as she waits.

Dyson's voice is soft and affectionate when he answers but cracks with worry when Bo's response is broken by her gasping breaths and whimper of a voice.

"_Bo, what's happened?"_

Guilt and shame bubble up, burning in her gut and in her throat and on her tongue. She feels dizzy and sick, and nothing, _nothing_, can fix this.

"Tamsin," she manages to choke out, and she sounds so truly broken that Dyson fears the worst.

"_Tamsin, what?" _Dyson urges her to speak further, to explain. _"Bo, what's happened to Tamsin?"_

"She's gone," Bo rasps, and Dyson feels pain and panic spark in his cells and thicken his tongue.

"_Gone? No," _he tells her. _"Gone where? Bo, where is Tamsin?"_

"I don't know!" Bo screams into the phone, her cheeks wet and her heart racing again. "I … I said some things. She left. She's gone, and I … I'm worried."

"_Where are you?"_

"Home."

"_I'm coming."_

Bo listens to the silence in her ear long after Dyson hangs up, long after the thunder begins to spill in again. She stands there, aching, sick to her stomach, riddled with regret, until Dyson's hands wrap around her shoulders, until Dyson's face swims in front of hers, until Dyson all but carries her back into the Clubhouse.

* * *

><p>"You <em>said <em>that to her?" Dyson growls, face riddled with shock growing rapidly into anger.

Bo closes her eyes against the heat of his burning gaze. "I know," she whispers.

"Bo, that's—"

"I know."

"What the hell were you thi—"

"I _know_, Dyson!" Bo chokes out in a hard gasp as she sucks in air that refuses to relieve her pain. "Don't you think I _know?"_

Dyson pushes off the couch and grabs his jacket. "Yes," he tells her. "I can see that you're hurting, Bo, but I imagine your pain is nothing compared to what Tamsin is feeling right now."

Bo's bottom lip quivers, as does her heart. "I know," she whispers, the words hardly more than breath. She looks up at Dyson, eyes glossy and stinging. "I have to make this right, Dyson."

"I don't know if that's possible, Bo," Dyson sighs, his jaw rigid and working back and forth.

Bo's guilt and regret expand, devouring more of her, as Dyson's words and the anger in his voice prick at her ears and at her flesh. _What did I do? What did I do? What did I do?_

"Can we find her?" Bo asks, her voice ragged and laced with the weight of everything pressing on her heart and on her conscience. "Where do we look?"

"_We _won't find her," Dyson corrects, his body rigid as he makes his way toward the door. His boots stomp heavily against the battered wood of the floor, and he sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. "_I _will, and as for where? I imagine I'll find her at the bottom of a bottle." His voice lowers to a pained whisper as he adds, "or the bottom of a ravine."

The words stab so forcefully through Bo's chest that the wind knocks free of her lungs and jets through her lips. She clutches at her chest, a ragged sob ripping free.

Dyson shakes his head and steps through the door. He shifts back just before disappearing from Bo's sight. He locks eyes with her from the doorway, and there is a fire burning in his gaze that Bo has never seen directed at her before. He grips the frame with one hand, the other curling tightly around the leather of his jacket. His veins stand out, his muscles flexed.

"I swear to the gods, Bo," he rasps, "if I don't find her before she does something … if I don't find her safe …"

Bo's lip trembles. She closes her eyes against the thought and nods. "I know."

Dyson is gone when she opens her eyes again, the air thick with nothing but her worry and regret, and her head full of echoes that never seem to quiet.

_What did I do?_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Dyson tracks Tamsin to a liquor store not far from the Clubhouse first, shaking his head when the clerk tells him that 'the tall blond chick with the bad attitude' left about thirty minutes prior with a bottle of vodka the size of his arm.

When Dyson exits the liquor store, he sighs and marches past the woman leaning against the cold brick wall, waiting for him. "How did I know you wouldn't listen?"

"I can't help it," Bo whines, scurrying after the man. "Dyson, I'm worried. Please let me come with you."

"Bo, you and I both know you're going to follow whether or not I say you can," Dyson tells her.

"Okay, that's true," Bo says, biting her bottom lip, "but at least I feel bad about it when you say I can't and then I do anyway."

Dyson sighs again and turns to face her. "Bo, I have to shift to find her," he says. "It will be easier to track her now that the weather has calmed and the clouds have cleared a bit, but her scent will still be masked by the alcohol. Shifting enhances my senses that much more. It's the fastest and easiest way to find her."

Bo nods, glancing toward the sky and silently thanking the ancients for cutting out the bullshit for at least an hour or two. "Okay, so then what are you waiting for? Shift."

"You won't be able to keep up once I change."

"I can try," Bo tells him, and her voice cracks as her eyes well up with fresh tears. "Dyson, please. This is my fault. Wherever she is, whatever she's feeling … it's on me."

"All the more reason for you _not _to be there when I _do _find her," Dyson argues. He runs a hand down his face, his expression etched with his worry. "Look, Bo, I know you love Tamsin, and I know you're worried, but like you said, _you _caused this."

Bo grimaces at the words despite having only just said them herself. Dyson doesn't apologize. Bo doesn't expect him to, nor does she expect him to make this easier for her or to comfort her somehow. She can see the disappointment in his eyes, the anger. She really screwed up. There is no softening that harsh reality. She deserves the guilt and the pain.

"So, why don't you just let me handle it, okay?" Dyson asks, though his tone makes it clear he isn't asking. "You're not the only one who loves Tamsin, you know."

"I know," Bo chokes out, her throat constricting and her stomach roaring its protest of the last hour.

Dyson softens against his will when he hears the break and sees the way Bo's jaw tightens, her lip trembling. He sighs, pulls off his jacket, and pushes it toward Bo. "Come on," he tells her, caving, and motions back in the direction of the Clubhouse. "You can take my clothes and follow me in your car. If you lose me, though, just go back home, Bo. You know you will be the first person I call after I find her."

Bo smiles, wiping at her cheeks and taking Dyson's jacket. "Thank you, Dyson."

Dyson says nothing, merely nodding and taking off at a run toward the Clubhouse with Bo doing her best to keep up with him.

* * *

><p>It isn't easy to follow Dyson at first, the wolf darting down alleys left and right, and a few times, Bo simply has to go the long way around and hope she meets him on the other side. She manages to catch him once he clears the throng of old buildings where Tamsin apparently walked in zigzags. Bo has to step on the gas to keep up with Dyson then, as the wolf takes off at a hard sprint down an open road lined with nothing but ditches, endless trees, and a few scattered houses.<p>

When Dyson suddenly veers off the road, shooting down into a ditch and then up the other side, Bo jerks the steering wheel to the left and throws the car in park on the side of the road. "Shit, shit, shit," she mutters as she grabs Dyson's pants, jumps out of the car, and races down into the ditch as fast as she can without tumbling forward and falling on her face. She climbs up the other side and takes off after the steadily shrinking white dot that is Dyson running in the distance, nearing the tree-line.

Bo's heart begins to race, gut twisting harder with worry.

Why would Tamsin go into the woods?

Bo pushes harder, urging her legs to carry her faster. "Oh god," she pants as she sprints after Dyson, "why couldn't I have been a speedy Fae?"

When Dyson slips into the trees, Bo's panic sparks higher. "No, no, no," she mutters, pushing herself harder, so hard that her chest aches. Her lungs scream in protest as she gasps in short, shallow breaths and races toward the woods. She mentally wills Dyson to slow his pace so that she doesn't lose him, but she knows the wolf is just as eager to find Tamsin as she is. The thought of something happening to the Valkyrie or of her harming herself in any way is unbearable for the both of them.

When Bo makes it to the tree-line, she doesn't slow. She sprints between the thinly separated trees, hissing as twigs snag on her hair and scrape at her arms and face. She doesn't stop though. She can't stop.

Fallen limbs scatter the ground, undoubtedly ripped from the trees in the earlier storm, and Bo is careful not to let them trip her as she pushes ahead. She nearly cries out with joy when she sees a fairly distinct and fresh muddy paw print atop a large leaf on the ground, and she picks up her pace to the best of her ability.

She thinks of Tamsin with every step she takes, every twig that bites at her skin and hair and clothes. She has to be all right. She _has_ to be. Bo can't lose her. As selfish as it seems in the wake of everything, Bo knows as much is true. Tamsin is vital to her own survival. Tamsin is vital to her heart, to her happiness.

Tamsin is so much more than she can even begin to understand.

Bo's heart clenches in her chest at the thought. Her spine tingles, low at the base, and Bo fights to catch her breath. She knows she hasn't lost it due only to the running, and that confuses and terrifies her. She pushes it out of her mind, though, and forces herself onward.

A moment later, she skids to a halt when a loud, harsh bark rings out from her left, followed by another and then another.

Bo shifts direction and takes off toward the sound. "Good boy, Dyson," she says breathlessly, hoping the wolf will continue to sound off, because the sky is rapidly darkening and Bo hasn't got a clue how to find her way back out of the woods.

Her eyes sting with tears when she hears nothing more than her own harsh breathing as she runs and runs and thinks she won't ever be able to stop if they don't find Tamsin safe. "Please," she whimpers to only herself, and then she hears him.

"Tamsin, no!"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Bo's heart pounds so heavily in her chest at the sound of Dyson's shout that she fears it might split the seams between her ribs and break through her flesh. She presses her fist, Dyson's jeans balled between her fingers, against her chest but the pain doesn't ease. She runs faster, tripping but managing not to fall, until she can see a clearing just ahead and Dyson's voice filters back to her.

"Tamsin, please," Dyson says, "come back with me. You can stay at my place. We can talk."

"I don't want to talk."

Bo nearly lets out a strangled sob at the sound of Tamsin's voice. She is overwhelmed by the relief that floods her chest and warms her blood. She slows her pace, because the thought then kicks in that maybe Tamsin will retreat if she sees Bo in this moment, if Bo ruins whatever fragile attempt Dyson is making at pulling Tamsin back from the metaphorical ledge.

"I'm done talking," Tamsin tells him. "Talking got me nothing. Talking is bullshit."

"Okay," Dyson says. "Okay, Tamsin. Then, we don't have to talk. We can just … drink, or spar, whatever you want."

Bo finally reaches the edge of the trees. She knows Dyson has to be aware of her presence, having either heard or smelled her inching up behind him, or perhaps both. She remains hidden in the trees, though, just far enough to be unseen but still able to see. She has to cover her mouth to keep from gasping when she realizes that Tamsin's ledge isn't quite so metaphorical.

The Valkyrie is teetering on the edge of broken ground, a gaping ravine stretching out behind her, an empty vodka bottle at her feet, and her wings are spread wide around her body. Her back is turned to Dyson, who stands stark naked behind her, having shifted in a desperate attempt to prevent her from doing something none of them would be able to take back.

"I'll let you get a few good punches in," Dyson tries. "We both know how much you like to kick my ass. Come on, Tamsin. Just step back and we can go. That's all you have to do. Just step back, and I'll take it from there."

Tamsin is silent for a long time, and Bo holds her breath without even realizing it. She is seconds away from stepping out from the trees to beg Tamsin to step back, to come home, when the Valkyrie finally speaks. It's quiet, slurred, and so pained that Bo can't help but hate herself in the wake of it.

"It hurts," Tamsin says, her voice broken but somehow still hard.

Dyson sighs, scrubbing a hand through his hair and down his face. "I know," he tells her. "I know it does, but—"

"No," Tamsin cuts him off, finally turning around. Her face is dark, sunken, skeletal. She is the night, as dark as her pain and yet vibrant, commanding. "No you _don't _know, Dyson. You don't know this pain. You have her love. You _have _her. I have nothing."

"You have _me_," Dyson tries, "and as hard as it is for you to believe it right now, you have Bo too."

Tamsin shakes her head and lets out a hard, cold laugh. She drops her chin to her chest, and her wings shift up and down with each heavy, harsh breath she takes. She fights the stinging in her eyes despite the dark voids they have become masking their moisture.

"I told her I didn't want to live this last life without her," Tamsin tells him, and Bo remembers the words, remembers the day, remembers the way Tamsin's voice shook and her eyes pled and wept. That day, in Valhalla, when everything was so rushed and so panicked and so confusing, Tamsin had told Bo she loved her. She just hadn't used the words, but Bo can see it now in her memory. She can hear it now, clear as day.

She hates herself harder, deeper, ruthlessly.

"I meant what I said," Tamsin continues, her voice scratchy and weak, "but now I think it might be harder to live _with _her … like this, after everything, than to live without her."

"The pain lessens, Tamsin," Dyson promises, and Bo closes her eyes when she hears his voice shake. He is afraid, just as she is. "You're right in that I don't know exactly how you feel. I don't know your exact pain, and I _do _have Bo's heart or at least a part of it, but I _do _know what it's like to lose that love, Tamsin. I _do _know what it's like to have it ripped right out of my soul, to have nothing inside but an empty void, to look at her and feel nothing but numbness."

"That's just it!" Tamsin snaps at him. "I _wish _I could feel numb! I _wish _I could feel empty. I wish I could feel anything but this, this fucking humiliation and this pain! It feels like my soul is trying to crawl out of my body, and I can't _breathe_, Dyson! I can't breathe. You _don't _get that. You never will."

Bo's cheeks streak with the evidence of her heart breaking around Tamsin's words, around Tamsin's pain. She did this. She did this to her, and despite knowing she cannot fault herself for feelings she doesn't believe she has, she does anyway. Bo lets the words stab at her, lets them steal her breath, and she tells herself she deserves that pain over and over and over. She tells herself she would take that pain for the rest of her life if it would spare Tamsin, but she can't undo what she did. She can't go back in time and change the way she worded things. She can't fix this.

"Tam—" Dyson starts, but Tamsin cuts him off.

"This wasn't supposed to happen to me," Tamsin chokes out around a sob, her shoulders slumping and her wings caving around her body. "I wasn't supposed to be this person. I wasn't supposed to … I didn't want to love her."

Bo jolts, surprised, when Tamsin's dark face then turns directly toward the place where she is hiding, and the Valkyrie says, "I didn't want to love you."

Bo wants to step forward now that she knows Tamsin is aware of her presence, though she has no idea how Tamsin knew. She wants to run through the trees and grab Tamsin's hand and drag the Valkyrie all the way back to the Clubhouse. She wants to say something, anything, to make this better, to strip the ache from Tamsin's voice. She wants to move, but she can't. She is frozen in place, frozen in the line of Tamsin's dark stare.

"I wasn't supposed to," Tamsin continues quietly, and Bo is ensnared in the moment. She sees nothing but Tamsin, hears nothing but her quiet, broken voice and the words that Bo knows will reverberate inside her long after the moment passes. She doesn't even realize Dyson has moved until he slips between the trees next to her, places a hand on her back and slowly pulls his jeans from her fist, still pressed to her chest.

Dyson slinks away to cover himself while Bo and Tamsin continue to stare at one another, both frozen in place.

"I'm a Valkyrie," Tamsin tells Bo. "We are a proud race, a fierce race. We do not show weakness. That's all I've known for as long as I can remember. Don't cry. Don't attach. Don't fall in love. Doubt. Kill. Repeat. That was it."

Bo's lip trembles in time with her heart. The darker the sky grows, the harder it becomes to see, but somehow Tamsin stands out in the dark. Her wings fan out around her once more, stretching to their full span, and Bo's breath catches in her throat.

"Until you," Tamsin mutters, and then before Bo can even process the magnitude of the words, Tamsin lets herself fall backward, arms and wings spread wide, and in the blink of an eye, she disappears over the ledge and into the gaping void.

Bo gasps so hard she chokes, and finally her legs allow her to move. "No!" she screams.

She jumps forward, sprinting through the remaining trees, and she hears Dyson's growling scream of protest as he races to the edge beside her. He catches Bo in his arms before she can skid over the edge and they stop just before tumbling over, both of them staring out and down into the vast, dark ravine.

Bo's heart thumps in her chest, in her throat, in her ears. She feels dizzy and faint, sick to her stomach, and she can feel Dyson's heart racing against her back as he squeezes her like doing so can somehow alleviate his pain and fear. He squeezes so hard that she feels the pressure ache against her bones, but she doesn't care. She doesn't push back. She doesn't move.

She only holds her breath and stares, tears ripping down her cheeks.

"Tamsin!" she croaks out in a ragged shout, and the raw word echoes across the chasm.

And then there is silence, silence, silence … growing until it becomes deafening.

"Dyson," Bo whispers, a choked and shredded plea.

"I know," Dyson mutters weakly. Before he can say another word or pull them both back, away from the ledge, away from the pain, away, Bo lets out a hard gasp.

The winged Valkyrie shoots up into the air from the gaping mouth of the ravine, her wings beating fiercely around her. She hovers in the distance, watching them for only a moment, before flying higher.

When Tamsin disappears into the clouds, Bo collapses against Dyson and cries harder than she has allowed herself in a long time. His reassurances fall mute against her hair, and Bo hears nothing but the stabbing echoes of Tamsin's broken voice in her mind.

_Until you. _


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Bo spends the following days on autopilot, moving mindlessly and without purpose, without passion, without care. She spends the days feeling empty and angry and hating herself. The feeling grows inside her with every passing hour, every minute that Tamsin doesn't call or come home, until it dances just under the surface and the slightest remark sets her off and makes her lash out.

The first time is with Dyson, and Bo knows he doesn't deserve it. She knows no one deserves it, no one but herself, but what is she going to do? Stand in front of the mirror and berate herself?

She lets Dyson help her stumble her way back to the car she abandoned on the side of the road and they climb in together in silence, Dyson behind the wheel and Bo in the passenger seat. She sits like her body is caving in on itself, crumbling as rapidly as her heart had when Tamsin slipped over the edge and out of sight. She sits like she can't ever put the pieces back together. She thinks maybe she can't, maybe she doesn't want to.

When they make it back to the Clubhouse, Dyson follows Bo inside, carrying his remaining discarded clothes and shoes. He dresses as Bo drops onto the couch in the same crumpled position she had taken in the car, and then he settles in beside her. He doesn't touch her. He merely looks her over, taking in the little cuts and scrapes covering her neck and cheeks and hands and arms where she had run through the woods.

"You should feed to heal," he says, but Bo shakes her head. "Bo, it won't take much. You can take from me."

"No," she tells him, and he nods instead of arguing.

Dyson doesn't say anything for the longest time after that, and Bo's ears start to ring in the tension-filled silence.

"Just say it!" she finally snaps at him, and Dyson sighs.

"What do you want me to say, Bo?" he asks, his voice low and tired.

"Say what you're thinking," Bo tells him. "Say that I screwed up. Say that I broke her. Say that I deserve to feel this way. Say that I'm awful. Say that I'm a monster!"

"You are not a monster, Bo," Dyson reassures, "and that wasn't what I was thinking."

"Yes it was," Bo snaps, and her voice cracks. "It was. It _is. _I can see it in your eyes, Dyson."

"No you can't," Dyson argues, reaching out to pull Bo's trembling hands into his, "because it isn't there. I don't think you are a monster. I never have, and I never will. I was thinking about Tamsin, Bo, hoping that she is okay. That is all I was thinking."

"And if she's not okay, it's because of me," Bo groans, pulling her hands from Dyson's to wipe at her eyes and cradle her head, elbows balanced on her knees.

"Bo …"

"What did I do, Dyson?" Bo cries into her hands. "What did I do? Why did I do that?"

"What do you mean?" Dyson asks her. "You told her how you felt, Bo. You shouldn't have expressed it the way you did, but you can't blame yourself for being honest about how you feel."

Bo is silent for several long moments, wiping at her eyes again and staring at the floor. She bites her lip and tries to block out the constant echoes of Tamsin's voice in her mind.

_Why not me? What's wrong with me?_

"Bo?"

Bo swallows thickly and turns to look at Dyson. "You _did_ tell her the truth about how you feel, right?"

"Y-yeah, yes," Bo croaks out, and her stomach lurches and drops. Her heart aches. Her throat goes dry. "I think so, yeah."

"You _think _so?" Dyson looks at her, incredulous. "Bo, aren't you _sure_?"

"Yes, Dyson, I'm sure," she snaps, and the words feel too thick, like they don't fit in her mouth, aren't right for her voice.

Dyson stares at her in silence for what feels like forever before he sighs and whispers, "She will be okay, Bo."

"You don't know that," Bo argues without looking at him.

"I know Tamsin, and—"

"_I _know Tamsin!" Bo snaps, cutting him off. "_I _know her just as well as you do, Dyson, probably even better. Don't talk to me like you understand her better than I do!"

Dyson startles at the outburst but then simply shakes his head and stands up. "Okay, Bo," he sighs. "Maybe it's best if I leave. Will you be all right?"

"I'm not a child," Bo grumbles, and Dyson stares at her for several long moments. He wants to say something, anything really, but the words never come. So, he simply shakes his head and walks out, leaving Bo crumpled on the couch and crying.

* * *

><p>The second time she lashes out is at Lauren.<p>

The doctor, undoubtedly having been informed by Dyson of the most recent train wreck to take place in Bo's life, shows up at the Clubhouse the morning after Tamsin's dramatic departure into stormy clouds. She finds Bo in the bathtub, lying in water that has gone cold and murky.

"Bo?" she says softly, reaching down to touch the Succubus's arm. It's freezing.

Bo stares at the wall, cheeks tight with tears that had dried there hours earlier. "Not now, Lauren," she mumbles, her voice shaky from the cold.

"Bo, come on," Lauren urges, walking around Bo and bending to slip her hands under the Succubus's arms. "Let's get you out of the tub. You're going to make yourself sick."

Bo jerks away from her, water splashing over the tub's edge, but says nothing.

"Bo, please," Lauren tries again, reaching once more for Bo's arms. This time, she gets a good hold and pulls Bo to her feet. The Succubus shivers where she stands, naked, and Lauren grabs the towel lying nearby. She slips it around Bo's body and helps her out of the tub and into the bedroom.

Bo says nothing as she drops onto the bed and Lauren sits down beside her, rubbing her hands up and down Bo's towel-covered sides, trying to generate some heat.

"We need to warm you up," Lauren says. "Maybe you should feed."

"No," Bo whispers. "Just go, Lauren."

"Bo," Lauren says, slipping one hand down Bo's arm and wrapping it around the Succubus's hand, "Dyson told me what happened … with Tamsin. I'm glad you were honest with her about how you felt."

Bo's eyes are cold and angry when she turns to look at Lauren. "You're _glad_?" she bites out. "I broke Tamsin's heart. I _broke _her, and you're _glad_?"

Lauren bites her lip and squeezes Bo's hand. "You know that's not how I meant it." Before Bo can say anything else, Lauren reaches up and runs her index finger over a long scratch on Bo's neck. "What happened here? Is this from the woods?"

Bo is shocked by how much Lauren's touch irritates her in this moment. She is shocked because she loves Lauren. She knows she loves Lauren. She wants Lauren. Everything is about Lauren, isn't it? She was with Lauren that day, and the heat of that experience had still been swirling inside her, dancing on her flesh, when Tamsin had approached her. She had been so drunk on Lauren that she hadn't even truly felt the full weight of what she was doing and saying and thinking until the door slammed with Tamsin's exit.

Bo can't shake that, can't shake that it had been Lauren who had been on her mind when she was breaking Tamsin's heart. She can't shake it, and though it wasn't and isn't Lauren's fault, Bo hates the doctor just a little bit for it anyway.

"Just go," she bites out again, because she knows the longer Lauren stays, the more likely Bo is to ruin another relationship with someone she cares deeply about.

"Don't you think we should talk about what happened between us the other day?" Lauren asks her.

"No," Bo snaps at her. "I don't want to talk about it, Lauren. I don't want to think about it. I can't. Not now. I can't think about anything but Tamsin. I'm sorry."

"But Bo," Lauren says, slipping her hand over Bo's again, "you can't help that you aren't in love with Tamsin. She jumped to conclusions about your relationship with her. Dyson and I both saw it happening. It isn't your fault."

"Yes it is."

"No it isn't," Lauren tells her. "Tamsin is the one who thought it was more than what it was. She made more than one comment to me about how amazing things were between the two of you, trying to rub it in my face. She thought she won before she was even in the game. Typical Tamsin."

"_Typical Tamsin_?" Bo growls out. She pushes off the bed, her towel falling to the floor. She doesn't care to cover herself as she puts her back to Lauren and tries to calm herself to keep from shouting at the other woman. She sucks in a sharp breath through her nose before coldly saying, "What happened between Tamsin and me is between _us_, and her hurting isn't her fault. It's mine."

"But Bo—"

"Please just go, Lauren," Bo bites out before sighing and pressing a hand to her face. She hates the way her eyes burn. Hasn't she cried enough? "Please."

She blocks out all sound after that and when she finally turns around what feels like an eternity later, Lauren is gone.

* * *

><p>The next time she lashes out is at the pizza delivery guy.<p>

He shows up later that evening, hours after Lauren has gone and Bo is home alone in nothing but her robe, beating the shit out of the boxing dummy in the living room. Sweat beads along her hairline as she opens the door.

The guy gapes at her, lust clear in his eyes. "I almost didn't come up," he laughs awkwardly after a moment. "I was pretty sure I took down the address wrong. This place is kind of a dump."

Bo doesn't laugh like the guy expects her to. She arches a brow at him instead and says, "Yeah, well, your face is a dump," before shoving a few bills at him, taking her pizza, and slamming the door in his face.

* * *

><p>When her phone rings as she is slapping the dummy, pizza crust hanging out of her mouth, Bo's first instinct is to ignore it, but then thoughts of Tamsin rapidly seep in and Bo lunges across the room for her cell.<p>

She glances at the ID and doesn't recognize the number. Maybe it really is Tamsin, calling from somewhere likely far, far away. Bo's chest somehow both aches and expands at the thought.

She presses to accept the call on the fifth ring and puts the phone to her ear. Before she can even get a word out, a familiar voice spills through the device.

"So, here I am, minding my own business with a bottle of vodka and a Guitar Hero marathon, and imagine my surprise when my precious baby Valkyrie legit _crashes _through the front window of my million-dollar casa grande! You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you Bo-Bo?"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Reviews are appreciated! Enjoy! XO-Chrmdpoet**

Chapter Five

Bo's heart momentarily seizes at the sound of her best friend's voice, light and playful in her ear, and her own voice comes out garbled and strangely high when she mutters, "Kenzi …"

Kenzi, noting the thick layer of emotion in Bo's voice, sighs knowingly and says, "I thought so."

There is silence between them for a long moment, nothing but the faint sound of music and maybe someone singing, Bo thinks, from Kenzi's end floating through the line, and then Kenzi asks, "What happened, Bo?"

Bo swallows thickly and closes her eyes. Tamsin's face swims through her mind, crumpled and wet with tears, and Bo takes a deep breath to try to soothe the sudden burning in her throat. "So Tamsin is there with you right now?" she asks, avoiding Kenzi's question.

"Ah, subject change," Kenzi replies. "Very smooth, Bo. You know you're going to have to tell me eventually, so you might as well get it over with now. If _you_ don't, Tamsin will, even if I have to booze it out of her, which believe me, is easier than you think."

Bo grits her teeth and silently berates her eyes for stinging with tears. "Is she okay, Kenzi?"

Kenzi sighs. "Yes, Bo. She's fine."

"Really?" Bo whimpers, though relief floods her system.

"Well, no of _course _not really!" Kenzi snaps into the phone. "I mean, is she alive? Yes. That much is clear from the fact that she has already drained half my bottle of vodka and is currently swaying in front of the fireplace belting out an angry rendition of a Melissa Etheridge song. If that doesn't scream 'lesbian drama' and 'hey world, I'm so NOT fine right now' then I don't know what does, Bo."

Neither the words nor the image they instantly produce in Bo's mind are enough to break through and evoke a laugh, and instead Bo groans and walks around to fall face-first onto the couch. She buries her face against the back cushion and listens to the sound of clinking glass on the other end of the line. "It's all my fault," she murmurs, her words muffled by the cushion pressing against her cheek and the corner of her mouth.

"_What _is all your fault, Bo?" Kenzi practically shouts into the phone. "For Fae sake! If somebody doesn't tell me what the hell is going on soon, I am going to explode!"

Bo sighs, the sound evolving into another groan, and her stomach roars in protest to even the idea of telling Kenzi what happened. Still, she takes a deep breath and says, "It's complicated, Kenz."

"So uncomplicate it," Kenzi counters and Bo really should have seen that one coming.

"I just mean it's complicated because you've been gone a little while now and a lot of stuff has happened since you left, a lot of stuff between me and …"

"Tamsin," Kenzi finishes for her. "Yeah, I know that already."

"You do?" Bo asks, surprised.

Kenzi chuckles. "I basically raised Tamsin, Bo. She calls me almost every night."

A spark of anger flashes in Bo's chest and then flickers down to a painful throb. "So, you gave Tamsin this new number of yours but not me?"

"Hey now," Kenzi defends, "don't go getting your thong in a twist. I only changed my number because I thought it would take away some of the temptation to call me so that you could move on a little faster. I was planning on giving you the number, Bo. I was, but I wanted to give us both a little time to get used to being apart before I did."

Bo's jaw works back and forth as she tries to tamp down her anger and the feeling of betrayal swirling just beneath the surface. She understands Kenzi's motive for cutting off contact, but it doesn't make it any easier to accept. Knowing that other people were able to contact Kenzi when she couldn't, when Kenzi made _sure _that she couldn't … it put Bo on edge. Was Dyson able to contact Kenzi? Trick? Hell, _Lauren _even? Was it only Bo that Kenzi shut out?

"No," Kenzi says quietly and Bo jolts on the couch.

"What?" she asks, and Kenzi sighs.

"It wasn't only you," Kenzi tells her. "Tamsin is the only one I gave the new number to."

Bo blushes, embarrassed, and presses her face harder against the couch cushion. She hadn't even realized she had posed a question aloud.

"And you can't really be mad at me for that," Kenzi continues. "Even though she's technically like thousands of years old, Tamsin is basically my adopted Fae baby, and I couldn't abandon her."

"Well that didn't stop you from running off to Spain and leaving her behind," Bo snaps before she can stop herself. What the hell is wrong with her? Everything that has happened in the last two days has her feeling far too raw and vulnerable. Guilt instantly spills through her gut and Bo whispers, "I'm sorry, Kenzi. I … I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I'm just—"

"Sad," Kenzi says, filling in the blank, and the first tears spill over Bo's eyelids and melt into the couch cushion. "And worried," Kenzi continues. "And maybe a little pissed."

"Yeah," Bo whimpers when her throat stops constricting long enough for her to choke out the single word.

"I figured as much," Kenzi tells her, "which is why I'm going to let that little remark slide, but just so you know, Bo, I _did _ask Tamsin to come to Spain with me. _She _chose to stay behind. She chose to stay with you."

Those words stab at Bo's heart with piercing precision and only make her loathe herself more. She squeezes her eyes shut tightly, wads her body up in a ball on the couch, her knees pressed to her chest, and lets herself cry for just a minute. She knows Kenzi will stay on the line.

When Kenzi hears Bo's breathing even out, she asks, "Do you want to tell me what happened or do you want Tamsin to?"

Bo takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "So you know about us?" she asks. "I mean, you know about all that's been happening between Tamsin and me?"

"Do I know about you succu-sexing Tam Tam like your life depended on it?" Kenzi replies dryly. "In horrendous detail, I'm afraid. Who do you think came up with the birthday bow idea, Bo-Bo? Tammers was nervous as hell."

Bo nods against the couch cushion. Of _course _that was Kenzi's idea. Of course it was. "Yeah," Bo squeaks, her voice ragged from crying, because what else can she say? "Things sort of spiraled pretty quickly after that."

"I know," Kenzi replies. "Tamsin's never sent me so many smiley selfies before. Perfect teeth, and I never even took her to the dentist. Do Fae go to the dentist?"

"Kenzi," Bo whispers, and Kenzi knows that whatever is about to come out of Bo's mouth is serious. "She told me she's in love with me."

Kenzi lets out a soft chuckle that's only partially genuine and jokes, "Well duh. Anyone with eyes cou—"

"I told her she was confused and didn't really feel that way," Bo says in one rush of breath, cutting Kenzi off. She takes another breath and finishes in a murmur, "and that I didn't love her like that."

There is nothing but silence for a long time and Bo pulls the phone away from her ear to make sure the call is still connected despite the fact that she can still hear the music in the background on Kenzi's end of the line. "Kenzi?" Bo whispers when the silence persists.

Kenzi clears her throat but that is the only indication she gives that she is still present, still listening.

"I didn't mean it the way it came out, Kenz," Bo tries to explain. "Kenzi, please, say something."

"I don't know what to say, Bo," Kenzi finally replies, and Bo can hear the hard edge to her voice that wasn't there before.

"Momz!"

Bo closes her eyes at the faint sound of Tamsin's voice calling to Kenzi, and then she hears Kenzi sigh into the phone.

"I've got to go," she says.

"No, Kenzi, wait," Bo pleads. "We need to talk about this."

"Honestly, Bo, I don't think you want to hear what I've got to say right now," Kenzi tells her, and Bo recoils at the bite in her best friend's voice despite how fair she knows it is.

"I've got to go," Kenzi says again and before Bo can protest, the line goes dead.

Bo clutches her phone to her chest and buries her face farther into the couch. She doesn't plan on moving until she has to.


End file.
